The 'Man' in 'Human'
by bionic4ever
Summary: Steve is feeling more like a robot than a human, so he turns to the only person he knows will understand.  Can Jaime make him feel like a real man again?  Thanks to Tigerlily, Julie and the members of The Bionic Project.
1. Prologue

**The "Man" in "Human"**

(Special thanks to Tigerlily for the plot suggestion, and to the members of The Bionic Project for their continued input and support.)

Prologue

Steve stared in disgust at the hole in his leg. He'd already made the needed repairs himself and would be fine until he got a chance to see Rudy; that wasn't the problem. Strange as it sounded, Steve was longing for a leg injury that actually _hurt,_ with a broken bone, bruising or bleeding to show for the trauma to his limb. Instead, the wires and circuits he'd eased back into place made him feel nothing short of robotic.

_Now I know how Jaime felt, _he thought to himself, _and why she wanted to run away from it all. _He felt like something that wasn't even human; a leg that had just endured what his had (a bullet fired at close range, just before he took his assailant down) should be causing physical agony. His leg was causing him no end of emotional distress as he stared at the hole in what should've been a totally decimated limb.

_I'm not a machine, dammit – I'm a __**man**_! Even if the only person he needed to prove that to was himself, Steve searched his mind for a way to do exactly that, before he was tempted to make his own run for freedom from the OSI and the life his bionics had wrought upon him.

Fresh out of ideas and desperately needing help, he turned to the only other person on the planet he knew who would understand completely.

- - - - - -


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Jaime had been worried ever since getting Steve's phone call. He was on his way over, claiming he just wanted to say hi, but Jaime had excellent instincts, and she knew he wasn't telling her the whole story. She'd never heard him sound so disjointed or so vulnerable.

She and Steve hadn't had much contact in the last year and a half. He'd called her several times, right after she'd tried to leave the OSI and had her 'problem' with the NSB wanting to lock her away, but once he'd realized she had chosen to be with Chris, Steve had faded out of her life. Truth was, Jaime missed him terribly. Unless Oscar had told him, Steve didn't even know that three months earlier, she had kicked Chris out of her life for good. She hadn't told him herself because she didn't want him to feel like he was her second choice and she also wanted to spare him the knowledge that Chris's belief that she still harbored strong feelings for Steve had been the primary cause of their break-up. Jaime still hadn't found the courage to dig deep enough to figure out if Chris had been right.

What did Steve want, and what – if anything – did Jaime want from him? She didn't have much time to ponder her questions before the ringing doorbell interrupted her reverie.

Steve's eyes spoke volumes, the very second she opened the door. He was in pain of some sort, but Jaime didn't think it was physical. "C'mon in," she told him with a soft, welcoming smile. "It's good to see you," she added, motioning to the sofa and sitting down next to him – close, but not too close. Now that he was here, Steve seemed to be having trouble voicing whatever was on his mind. Jaime wished she could somehow make it easier for him and ease his pain the way he had so often helped her. "Steve, what's wrong?" she asked quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Steve's opposite hand reached up to touch hers, savoring the contact. He wasn't sure if it was her beauty, her closeness or simply being with her, but he found himself suddenly speechless.

"We've always been able to talk to each other," Jaime probed. "What is it?"

Reluctantly, Steve forced his hand away from hers and his eyes grew even sadder. "Chris wouldn't like this," he said slowly, "our being together like this. I don't want to cause -"

"Chris isn't here; he hasn't been for months now."

"He's...gone?"

"Yep. I threw him out. Long story." Jaime smiled reassuringly at her long-time friend. "Please talk to me; I can tell something's bothering you. Let me help?"

Chris was..._gone? _This changed everything and yet changed nothing at all. Steve still couldn't voice what was troubling him.

"Steve...?" Jaime's fingertips brushed across Steve's cheek with a whisper-soft touch. "What's wrong?"

"I got shot today," he answered in a flat, emotionless voice.

"Shot! Are you...alright?" Jaime's eyes were wide with alarm.

"Yeah; that's the point. It was at close range, but it hit my leg, and I'm just fine."

Instantly, just as Steve had known she would, Jaime understood. "I know what you're trying to say," she told him, leaning a bit closer for emphasis, "but look at it this way: the bionics saved your life – again."

"It's pretty hard to kill a machine," Steve said miserably.

Jaime sat up straighter, grabbing Steve's chin firmly and forcing him to look at her. "Steve Austin, how dare you! You used to refuse to let me wallow in self-pity like that, and I'm not gonna let you do it, either!"

"I should be in a morgue! Or at least in a hospital, having what's left of my leg stitched back together like a road map."

"Steve -"

Now that he'd gotten started, it all poured out; he couldn't stop it. "I'm nothing but a damned machine, Jaime – a robot -"

"Back it up, Austin!" Jaime shook her head. "That means you think I'm just a machine, too?"

"Of course not..."

"Well, neither are you! And...I can prove it!" Steve looked questioningly at her, so Jaime continued. "You feel my hand on your face, right?" She brought her other hand up to gently touch him with all ten fingertips. "A machine wouldn't be feeling _this_." Very slowly, with extreme tenderness, she traced a line up either side of Steve's face, across his cheekbones and over his forehead, then back down along the strong lines of his jaw before setting his lips ablaze with a featherlight touch of just two fingers.

Steve's breath caught in his throat, and as their eyes were drawn to each other, Jaime's own breath did the same. Neither of them moved as old-and-yet-somehow-new emotions swirled around them, taking them both by complete surprise.

"Of course I feel that," Steve acknowledged, trapped by her eyes and helplessly unable to look anywhere but directly into them. "But you know as well as I do that if that same hand was on my leg...I wouldn't feel it. At least, not the same way a real man would feel it..."

Jaime grinned. "You wanna bet?" Her hands remained gently cradling his face as she spoke. "You're the one who taught me that a whole lot of what we feel in is our minds. Remember?" Very slowly, she took her hands down and moved one of them to rest on Steve's thigh, just above the knee. "It's the _thought _of my hand being where it is that can excite you, more than the actual act of feeling it there."

Steve couldn't blink; her eyes held him that firmly, drawing him deeper with every passing second. "You're right," he admitted, finally snaking an arm around Jaime's waist and daring to pull her a little bit closer. "That hand has a definite ... effect on me. Not just in my mind, either," he added softly.

The kiss was inevitable; there was no point denying it. Their faces were just inches apart, their ragged breathing in perfect sync, and their eyes grew wide with the recognition of the passion they both felt growing too strong to ignore. Their lips joined together with no hesitation or 'testing of the waters' – they knew each other far too well. They fell together hungrily, mouths pressed hard against each other as they began reclaiming everything they'd lost. Jaime's body felt like melted butter in Steve's arms, and in her mind he was the popcorn as she moved languidly against his body.

"It takes a real man to make me feel like this," she purred into his ear. Her hands deftly made short work of his shirt, laying it open across his shoulders as she eagerly explored the muscles of his chest and shoulders, playing with his chest hair and massaging every inch of newly-bared skin. Steve's low, soft growl of pleasure spurred her on, and she reveled in the way he seemed to be touching her everywhere, all at once.

Their eyes stayed open as they kissed and their tongues interlocked, pulling their bodies against each other as their shirts fell to the floor. Steve's thumbs traced soft, gentle circles across the front of Jaime's body, causing her to squirm against him, moaning with desire. He picked her up with a strong, confident swing of his arms, kissing her deeper than she'd ever been kissed before as he carried her down the hall and placed her carefully on the bed.

"Steve," Jaime whispered, finally coming to a stunning realization, "I...still love you. I love you, and...I need you."

Steve stretched out next to her on the bed, pulling her close as the remainder of their clothes hit the carpet. "Jaime, from the very first time I saw that tiny girl with her little blond pigtails, I have never for one second stopped loving you." He claimed first her mouth, then her body as the man inside him smiled.


	3. Epilogue

Epilogue

When the first rays of the next morning's sunrise sparkled through the bedroom window, Jaime and Steve were still nestled together, completely satiated and content, unwilling to break the spell by falling asleep. Jaime reached up to trace one gentle fingertip across Steve's chest, circling each side and then sliding softly down the center, savoring the warmth of his body and the strength of the muscles.

"If you keep doing that," he warned with a smile, "we're not going to sleep yet..."

Jaime grinned back at him. "I was hoping you'd say that." She sighed with total bliss as their bodies joined together. They moved in perfect harmony, their rhythms matching exactly and their eyes gazing all the way into each other's souls. They took their time – there was no need to rush – and as the slow, tender love-making reached its peak, they fell back into each other's arms, clinging together through the mutual quivers and sighs, knowing that no one else on the planet could ever make them feel this way.

"This isn't the reason I called you," Steve said softly, once they were breathing normally again.

"Complaining?"

"Definitely not. I just don't want you to think I came here just to take a dive at you."

Jaime kissed him. "If I thought that, I wouldn't have opened the door. Besides, who dove at who?"

"Ok; it was a mutual dive."

"Well, you know," Jaime said lightly, "it was only thanks to bionics that we kept going this long."

"Um...Sweetheart? That part isn't bionic -"

Jaime bopped Steve playfully as she blushed and giggled. "No, but our endurance levels are higher since we use less oxygen." She snuggled closer, loving the way his arms felt around her body. "Steve, only a _real _man could make me feel the way you just made me feel. And when I looked in your eyes, I could tell...you felt the same way. That comes from the heart, you know; a machine would never experience any of that."

Steve nodded. Somehow, he'd known all along that Jaime would understand, and know exactly how to help. "You're right."

"I usually am," she told him, leaning in for one more kiss.

END


End file.
